


Below The Surface Of Urtraghus

by Planet_Bryyo



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planet_Bryyo/pseuds/Planet_Bryyo
Summary: In the aftermath of the Phazon crisis, a gang of Urtraghian Pirates are left scavenging in the underground, hoping to find their way to a better life when all they have is a broken gun, a faulty homemade torch, and scritters for lunch again.





	Below The Surface Of Urtraghus

Some days, below the surface of Urtraghus, all they could hear was the faint _clunk, clunk, clunk_ of abandoned mining tools. The Federation hadn't bothered to clear them all out yet. Month by month, the space between each sound would grow longer and longer as the machines wore down. Occasionally, once would cease production altogether, and a distinct set of _clunks_ would go quiet.

The machines had long outlived their purpose- Phazon had retreated the moment Phaaze died, and Phazite ore now crumbled to dust the moment it was struck. They continued to toil nonetheless, though their creators had abandoned them and the new invaders wouldn't even put them to rest.

So it was also with the little band of leftover Pirates in their hideout, waiting in the faint hope that something good might happen to them. What exactly, they didn't know. There wasn't much chance of kindness from the Federation- if caught, they would likely be shot on sight, or arrested and interrogated. But it had been months since the invasion, and by now the soldiers above ground were growing lax in their efforts to capture stragglers. There wasn't much left here save for scrap metal, and there was little reason for the Federation to hang around.

And what if the Pirates came back? Well, they would have moved on by then. They'd have better soldiers and better weapons. Urtraghians had been their slaves for many years, mining the petty metal supplies on the planet's surface. They were clever enough for menial labour, as long as they had functioning limbs tacked on, but otherwise frail and squishy compared to the armoured Zebesians or agile Aeroptils. Good reactions to Phazon had been their breakthrough as a species- their only chance at grasping for any power in the Pirate ranks- and now it was all gone.

_Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._

Former Engineer-428 paused to listen. He could hear three different machines running today. The big drill must have failed overnight.

"Sounds clear, Gzis. Don't see much life around, though."

His companion swung a gun off his hip- it was damaged, crudely patched up but functional for the purpose. The tank which had once held Phazon was completely empty.

"Not even any scritters about?"

428 hissed. "Like hell am I eating another scritter. I'd rather starve at this point. I'm sure they caused that bug that took out S-67."

"Good thing too, else S-67 would still be here complaining about his meals and I'd be dangerously close to shooting him for it."

428 growled and clacked his teeth, but said no more.

\---

The camp was a very humble affair; a bit of old battleship which had ended up buried down in the caverns after a bad crash. The tunnel leading away from it was a disused transit line, once busy ferrying Phazite to-and-from the planet's science facility. No tram car had come down this way in a long time.

As Gzis and 428 strolled back into camp, they were called out to by a grubby lookout- an Urtraghian roughly the same size and stature as 428, if a bit more weathered. Barely visible beneath a layer of dirt was the faint insignia on his shoulder which marked him as _Mining Operator 23_.

"Hey, hey, hey, looks like Gzis and 428 are back. How's the haul, Gzis?"

Gzis grumbled and lifted up a single, sorry-looking shriekbat corpse. It didn't seem particularly fresh.

"Well, it's something. We can only scavenge what we can, right?"

"That's a sign though, is it? If we're the first ones to pick this up, then we're definitely the only stragglers around here."

Meeting another group of survivors had been their only unspoken hope for a long time. They didn't even know what they'd do if they found somebody- more than likely, it would involve minimal sharing of resources and a lot of shooting, stealing, and eventual cannibalism. But life had become so dull, so routine and yet so fruitless, that the promise of ANY new interaction kept them going. It was all they had.

Gzis slammed the shriekbat down in the middle of the camp. "428 doesn't want in, so who's-"

"I _NEVER_ said that." Engineer-428 roared, but Gzis just shoved him aside with a heavy fist. Gzis was around twice his size, and he knew better than to argue once things got physical.

Slowly, two more figures crawled out of the shadows towards the prize, both keeping their eyes on Gzis. They were visibly smaller and skinnier than the rest- militia, the lowest of the low and most tormented in the Pirate ranks. Though everyone's cybernetic limbs were pretty worn down by now, theirs were clearly cheaper, weaker, and far more damaged. The smallest of the pair no longer had functioning legs, and was dragging himself forward with his arms.

Mining Operator 23 pulled up an old hunk of plastic computer coating and sat down on it, jaws chattering with excitement as he eyed the food. "Did you catch Traug on your way back in? He went to scout out a new tunnel."

"No. What, did he go on his own?" 428 pulled out a makeshift stone knife and began carving the tough cuticle off the shriekbat.

"No... It was suspicious, but I didn't dare question him. Don't want to lose an arm, least of all risk losing my good one." He waved his left arm around for effect, wincing as it sparked at the joints.

"Well, his loss. Oi, Urp. Take this cuticle outta my way would you?"

One of the smaller Urtraghians- the one with working legs- stepped forward quietly, gathered the shriekbat shell up in his skinny arms, and rushed to the edge of camp to dispose of it. It already smelled pretty bad, but he was used to the grotesque scent of dead animals.

"Right, and when you're done with that, get on with cleaning out the water tanks, yeah? Need to get some more from the stream tonight. We rushed through the last lot with 428 guzzling it in his fat jaws."

428 glared silently, as Gzis leaned back against the old ship's hull and let out a purr. It was the closest thing to a smug grin that Urtraghians could do.

\---

"Just up the tunnel, 'ere. No, not that way, idiot! Don't shine the torch there, you'll rile up the shriekbats."

"What shriekbats? And what torch? There's barely even a light coming outta this thing."

"Don't complain to me, you're the one who made it!"

There was a _thunk_ as the torch slipped out of 428's hands, and clattered to the floor below.

"Well, now you're just gonna have to go up there in the dark, ain'tcha?" Traug bared his teeth and purred. Had he not been a Commander (even if only an ex-Commander, really) Engineer-428 would have kicked him in the face there and then.

"Fine. Can I get a lift up?"

" _Suuuure._ " Traug shoved 428 through the hole above, and he vanished into darkness. There was a hiss, and a single shriek, and the clunk, clunk, clunk of a disused ore transporter some distance away.

428 was lucky this time- the shriekbat that came for him missed by a few metres, and no other members of the colony decided to follow. Now all he had to do was stay quiet, and go unnoticed.

"Do you see it, yeah? Up there, there's a faint light coming from the inside."

428 squinted all six of his eyes and looked around. It was difficult to see- even more so when his vision kept drifting upwards to the shriekbats, just to make sure they weren't moving about- but eventually he started to notice the faint, flickering blue glow somewhere up ahead. It wasn't close, but it was definitely real.

"Yeah, I see it now. Okay, I'm coming back down."

"Whoa, whoa, you're doing what now?" Traug scraped his metal fingers against the rocky wall, just loudly enough for 428 to hear. He got the message.

"F-fine, I'm going."

"Good. We need an engineer to take a look at that thing before we get it off the ground, yeah?"

428 mentally swore the whole way to it. Crawling through the dirt on his hands and knees, trying not to make a sound though his steel joints were perhaps the single loudest thing in the whole universe, he could almost feel the unsettled vibe resonating from the shriekbats. Why Traug thought this was a good idea, he couldn't fathom. If the bats decided to launch themselves at him while he was standing by the ship, that would be him AND the camp's one hope for salvation blown to smithereens. Maybe this was some ploy to see him off, but that didn't make a lot of sense. He wasn't much of a threat, and if anything, having an engineer about camp was nothing but a plus.

Just when he thought he was never going to get there, his forehead bumped up against cold metal of a ship's exterior. It was larger than he'd expected- bigger than a fighter, and wide, but not heavily fortified by the looks of it. Probably just a material transporter. Slowly, he reached out a hand to touch it. It felt... Hard. That was the best he could do with metal limbs. They weren't particularly sensitive.

Relieved, he hurried around and tucked himself away behind it, finally out of reach of the shriekbat colony. Pulling a few tools from his belt, he began to tinker with the lock on the doors. Not that he knew much about ships. He'd been a drill engineer. But there had to be some similarities between the two.

\---

"Alright, Traug, there's something you're not telling us."

"Relax, Gzis, relax. I'm just taking a few necessary precautions, is all."

"But 428 says the ship is nearly fit to go! I say we get scouting and figure out our route before the Feds get on to us, then we bust it out of here. We could be in the Luggar system by next week!"

Traug hissed and bit down on a chunk of scritter, spitting out the bitter shell and continuing to grimace as he swallowed the rest.

"No good rushing. You and 23 work on a safe route out of here, while me and 428 patch up the last bits of the ship. Give it a month or so."

"And why don't YOU lead the scouting party?"

"Because _I_ have experience flying a ship and you don't. I'd think camp would rather have me around for the launch. If we can afford to risk losing someone, it ain't me."

Gzis roared. He clenched his fist and tossed it at the nearest thing, which happened to be Urp. Somehow, it always happened to be Urp, unless it was Militia-3576, but since Urp actually had legs he was typically tall enough to be within reach at the time.

Urp had barely recovered before Traug had grabbed him by the metal scruff of his neck and dragged him over. "Oi, Urp. Clean this shell up, would ya?"

Teeth still bared, Gzis tossed the sloppy remains of his own meal onto the pile. "Take it out before it smells as bad as all of you."

Urp scurried away past the edge of the camp, beyond the last scraps of metal from the broken battleship and the already half-empty water tanks, to the the waste pile. It was stacked up with everything the camp members didn't want. Mainly food, which degraded pretty quickly but left a hideous smell. The rest was bits of wire and tubing that 428 had pulled out of his devices. Urp often watched him as he worked on them, ripping things apart and taking out unwanted bits, then re-organizing the remaining parts to create new devices. It fascinated Urp. He'd watched 428 turn a gun into a torch once. Granted, it wasn't a very powerful torch, but it was functional at least.

Sadly, most of the time 428 wasn't happy being watched. He couldn't really complain when Gzis or Traug did it, so he took out his frustration double when he caught Urp staring. Or just glancing for a moment. Really any opportunity he got to make an accusation whether it had happened or not.

As he tipped the food waste into the pile, Urp made sure to get the last scraps off every bit of carapace. Everyone got food at camp, but not everyone got equal amounts of it; he and Militia-3576 tended to get just enough to survive, and that was it. They didn't have the strength to physically fight for their food like the others could.

But Urp wasn't just gathering food for himself. Though he gave in to temptation and chewed a glob of scritter meat- it wasn't tasty, but it was something- he piled up as much as he could in a roughly bowl-shaped metal scrap, setting it down just outside the waste dump. And then he waited.

The others weren't patient enough to leave bait. Nor were they quiet- as soon as they started rushing over, the heavy clunking of their legs sent the bugs running. But if there was one thing Urp had learned, it was how to be quiet and go unnoticed. It was the best survival tactic, both when facing one's angry supervisor, and when out on the field with minimal armour. Now, it was how he caught scritters.

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed before the first one arrived. Then a second, and third, until quite a substantial horde had gathered around the food bowl. He knew they fed on the waste pile too, but it was harder to catch them there. Once he had them in place, Urp began to creep forward...

He lunged. There was a rush of noise in his ear as scritters dispersed all around him. The three caught in his arms tried to wriggle their way out, but with his full body weight he crushed them to the ground until their legs were broken. Finishing them off was easy after that.

Urp tipped the last of the waste food out of his makeshift bowl, and put the three scritters in it instead. He began making his way back to camp- but not quite the way he had left. Just behind the exposed half-room from the ship which made up their main living space, there was a small opening, which had once been a door frame; it was bent out of shape now, and most of the others couldn't fit inside. Luckily, his tiny limbs were the perfect size.

Urp slipped through the entrance into almost pitch darkness. He could barely make out the outline of the room, the charred surfaces and destroyed computer panels that 428 had failed to salvage long ago. But he didn't need vision; he could navigate by sound alone. Against the _clunks_ of distant machinery, he listened for a familiar pained wheeze. As ever, it came from the same corner of the room.

Urp sat down beside it. He took a scritter out of the bowl, tore it in half, and handed it to a sickly Urtraghian who was lying almost completely still on the floor. He was somewhat thankful for the low lighting, as it meant he didn't have to see what a horrific state the other Pirate was in. The last he'd seen was him writhing in pain, shrinking away from the light and clawing at his body as if trying to grab something that wasn't there any more. Urp could feel his hand shuddering violently as he took the food.

It was a miracle that he'd lived this long. He no longer spoke, or interacted in any meaningful way, or showed any understanding of what was going on around him. Most of what he had been- what he had become- was Phazon. With that part of him torn away, he was slowly shrivelling.

It had affected them all in one way or another; they'd all fallen for the charms of the Dark Hunter, be it because of her clever words, or her poisonous influence, or something else. Even in hindsight, it all seemed glorious. How had such a miracle slipped out of their grasp, they often wondered.

But Urp had never really been exposed to it. He was just a disposable soldier. Politics and leadership never meant a lot to him; he just followed orders or expected to be beaten for it. All he'd ever really cared for were his rations, and the rations of the few fellow disposables he actually cared about. The only ones who understood him and showed any semblance of care back. Behaving was the way to get food and bedding. Having friends was a good way to ensure that your food and bedding stayed with you, not being stolen by tougher Pirates. That was why he felt sorry for this dying soldier, who had no way of fighting his corner or asking for anyone's help.

He talked for a bit- it seemed like the kindest thing to do, just talking about his day, and about the ship they'd found- then after a little while, when he figured Gzis or Traug would probably be starting to get rowdy and take it out on Militia-3576, he left the Phazon trooper to his meal. It would take him a while to eat it, but Urp would come and clean up the scraps for him later.

Urp came back into camp in the middle of a lively discussion. He never quite picked up on what it was about. Luckily, it made for a good distraction as he slipped a scritter into Militia-3576's hands, and began to pull the last one apart for himself.

\---

Traug hadn't been back at camp for ages, maybe days, and Gzis wouldn't let it go.

"He's up to something, I KNOW it."

"Gzis, he's probably dead. Get over it." 23 wouldn't normally have dared be so blunt to one of his superiors' faces, but by now he was so fed up he couldn't stand it any longer. At least a punch in the gut would been more entertaining than all the ranting.

Gzis kicked a bucket over, careless to the fact that Militia-3576 had been leaning against it.

"23, pick that up."

23 leaned over towards Urp. "Urp, pick that up."

Some days, Urp wished they remembered his number. He'd been Militia-4001 for most of his life until now. Urp had been a nickname used only within the Militia barracks; it was a dual term of endearment and aggression. The word itself was very crude and unpleasant, but at the same time, just _having_ a name gave a sense of identity that no number could convey. Coming from his fellows, even if it came in a competitive sense as they battled for bits of each others' food, it had been significant. Coming from the mouth of a commanding officer, it was just a plain old insult.

It was okay for Gzis and Traug. They had proper names. Names that brought them respect. Names they were allowed to have when they'd advanced through the ranks- but he suspected they'd pretty much always had them. It was hard for an average soldier to reach command status. No, you needed modifications to do that, like drugs or gene edits to buff you up. Gzis and Traug had probably been something since their very conception, and he remained a nothing to this day. Nothing but a load of _Urp_.

 _Clunk. Clunk._ Another machine had gone out yesterday. Two gone in a row meant they were probably connected, as 428 had speculated. He and 23 had spent hours trying to figure out which particular machines were offline now, just in case they were being dismantled by the Federation and not simply burning out. At present, he was out taking a look with his own eyes.

"H-hey, look. I think it's 428!" 23, sitting in his usual lookout spot, pointed down the road. Sure enough, 428 was bolting towards the campsite.

"Pack up. We're leaving, now."

"We are?" Gzis leaned against the wall, giving 428 an intense, accusatory stare.

"Yeah, we are..."

"And do we have a reason for that?"

"Traug's dead."

The whole camp went silent. Everyone froze on the spot. They could feel the knots in their stomach- all but Gzis, who just let out a satisfied throaty rumble.

"I'm happy enough with that. So what's Traug gone and done now?"

"There's soldiers- h- he- we-"

The rumbling stopped. The next thing 428 knew, he was pinned against the wall by his throat.

"H- aaak-"

"Speak UP."

"W-we were- working on the ship- we had a route planned- I installed a c-cloak- but they were in the caves- with the machines- they-"

"Was this a route out for all of us, or just for _some_ of us?"

"S- s- not enough supplies-"

"Oh, so just a LUCKY FEW were going to head off with the ship, were they? I don't suppose YOU were a member of this special crew?"

428 didn't even get a chance to answer the question. Gzis threw him to the ground with so much force that his body just slumped, unmoving. It was hard to tell whether he was unconscious or...

"23, you know anything about this?"

"M-me? Nah, I mean, it doesn't surprise me but..."

"Right. You're our new engineer. The Federation's about to be on our backs, grab everything and start heading out. Urp, scout up ahead and make sure the path to the ship's clear."

"But I don't know how t-"

"MOVE IT."

23 scrambled to his feet. Urp turned to Militia-3576, who had just managed to prop himself back up against the nearest crate.

"Hey, 4001, looks like we finally got a way out! Are you gonna tell th-"

BLAM. Militia 3576 drooped to the floor. Had the weapon been at full strength it would've torn his chest in two, but the weakened strike had just barely killed him. Urp didn't even realise what had happened on the instant, until he felt Gzis grab the back of his neck and drag him away.

"Get up, Urp. Is that Phazon trooper in the back still alive?"

Urp nodded, trembling.

"Well he ain't gonna be much longer. 23, go deal with him." Gzis tossed him the gun. He caught it, though almost dropping it as his bad arm sparked. "No room for them. No tell-tales left behind."

An unnerving screech and a bang were the last things Urp heard coming from camp as Gzis shoved him forward into a crate, which he picked up without even thinking, and they all began dashing towards the shriekbat tunnel.

\---

"Leave the food crates here a minute. Priority is getting past those bats."

"How we gonna do that, Gzis?"

Gzis narrowed his eyes. "Can't use Urp as bait. That risks setting them all off."

23 dug into a barrel of tools and metal scraps, most of which were destined to be sold off on Luggar- or wherever they got to. Somewhere at the bottom were a few actually useful items, which he had foolishly tossed in first in a blind panic.

"Quiet, idiot! You're making too much noise. At this rate either the Feds'll find us, or the shriekbats."

23 let out an exhausted hiss.

"Okay, we're just gonna have to be as quiet as we can. I'll go first and you lot pass me the stuff."

23 crawled upwards through the hole in the roof, into the shriekbat-infested cavern, with only the terrible light of 428's makeshift torch to guide the way. Thankfully, it wasn't bright enough to upset the cave's inhabitants.

Getting everything through the hole was difficult. Doing so with time pressure was even worse. Gzis was big enough to do most of the heavy lifting with ease, but wasn't so skilled at getting it neatly through the narrow entrance to the cavern.

"Won't take 'em long to get down here, Gzis. Might want to hurry up with those-"

A heavy piece of scrap metal flew past 23's head.

"Point taken. But we still gotta figure out how to work that ship once we're on it."

"Right. I'm coming up. Urp, shove the food barrel through the hole and let's go."

In one bound, Gzis dived up into the hole- but he didn't quite come out the other side. What had looked fairly easy to get through was actually somewhat narrower than he'd anticipated. He tried to wiggle his torso free of the rock it was stuck in, to little avail.

"Oi! Get me up!"

"Shh, you'll alert th-"

"GET. ME. UP."

Urp pushed from one side, but his skinny arms did very little. 23 pulled from the other, but his more substantial arms were almost equally ineffective.

Gzis grumbled and bashed his head against the rocks. He was starting to realise his yelling might not have been a good idea, but then again, their language didn't sound like much to the Federation. It could easily be mistaken for a creature in the caverns, or a horde of scritters, or even collapsing machinery.

"Hold on Gzis. I can try and shoot some of the rock off around the edge, just gimme a minute..."

"Shoot? With your arm? Don't you DARE-"

BLAM. Nothing much happened, but the rocks began to crumble.

"Just one more!"

"NO-"

BLAM. This time a chunk fell out of the rim of the hole, and Gzis tumbled down onto his back.

"Well, at least you're free." 23 had to fight his urge to let out a satisfied purr. He held up the gun in as cool a pose as he could make, but his arm took the opportune moment to droop, ruining the scene.

"How did Traug get up here with his fat body? _Why didn't they clear the way a-_ "

Gzis froze as he realised what he could see. In the dim lighting that ran along the tram road, the elongated shadows of humanoid figures were coming closer and closer. The sound of machines was now quieter than the oncoming footsteps. He dived back up through the hole with such force that the weakened edge collapsed, widening it significantly. Before 23 or Urp had even had time to process what was going on, he was making a beeline for the ship, leaving them behind at at the cavern entrance.

"Hey, Urp. Pass that food crate up would ya? It's the last one, but we're screwed without it."

Though still shaken by the whole affair, not least the fact that he was now the last thing between them and the approaching Federation soldiers, Urp managed to get a fairly firm grip on the food crate. He reached up to pass it through the hole-

23's arm buzzed. CRACK. The whole crate dropped to the floor.

"AGH. Quick clean that-" 23 glanced upwards towards the railway tunnel. He could hear voices, human voices.

With a deep sigh and frustrated clack of his jaws, 23 jumped back down and began grabbing bits of scritter and shriekbat, piling them all into the crate alongside Urp. He kept his better hand on the gun which was still strapped to his side.

There was shouting- distinctly human shouting in Common Earthen language. Not that 23 or Urp were educated enough to recognise the words without a translator, but they remembered what it sounded like. They'd only seen humans once before, and they were lucky to have come out the other side.

The gunfire, however, was intimately familiar.

23 scrambled behind the nearest rock. "Urp, get that crate up before they get over here!"

Urp waited. They were still firing, but not getting closer- presumably being cautious about it. They didn't know how many pirates they were up against. If they'd known, it would all have been over a lot quicker.

The firing paused. Urp grabbed the crate and threw it up. He didn't care if it opened again- as long as it got into the tunnel above, he could deal with it somehow. Or maybe not, but he would go down trying.

He scrambled up, feeling the heat as several gunshots barely scraped past him.

"H-HEY, URP! MY ARM'S GONE AGAIN! I'M GONNA NEED A LIFT UP! GET BACK HERE!"

Urp hadn't done it on purpose. He felt bad leaving 23 back there on his own, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat pulsing in his ears, and he just KNEW he had to run for it.

"URP! COME BACK!"

Urp was in the tunnel now. He could faintly make out the blue light coming from the interior of the ship- it was consistent, not flickering any more, but it was uncomfortably far away.

He grabbed the crate, not caring whether the lid was on or off or whether there was even any food left in it. And he ran. He could hear gunshots down below, and 23 wasn't calling for him any more. But he tried to push that out of his mind.

The _SKREEE_ of angry shriekbats sounded above his head. He kept running and running, feeling the rush as they collided with the ground behind him. First there were just a few, then suddenly a whole horde came down as they realised they hadn't killed whatever was threatening their nest. Breeding members of the colony were already beginning to detach from the ceiling and flit out of the tunnel to safety. The rest were exploding en masse.

Just a moment before colliding with it, Urp realised he'd reached the ship. It was bigger than it had looked from the other end of the tunnel- _much_ bigger. Unfathomably big for something that had managed to crash all the way down here and survive. There was a huge dent left in the floor where it had fallen on its side, but somehow 428 and Traug had managed to get it the right way up, and had begun turning it around. It must have come in from the direction it was now facing- the way out. Presumably, they had confirmed there was still open access up ahead. If not- well, it was a bit late to question it.

A loud BANG made Urp jump. He froze, but then realised it was only Gzis banging against the metal door of the ship.

"How do I get it open? HOW DO I GET IT OPEN?"

Urp hurried around to Gzis's side. Gzis was holding the torch up to the door lock, staring at it as if willing it to open for him. Nothing budged.

"UGH. I can hear voices."

Urp peeked around the front of the ship. There he saw them- Federation soldiers, in their heavy armour, difficult to see if not for the blue light of their helmet visors. And here he was without anything to cover most of the soft parts of his body. One shot and he was dead. Even Gzis's armour wouldn't hold up against more than a few blasts.

Gzis banged on the door again and again. The soldiers began to pick up pace-

_SKREEEEEE!_

A barrage of shriekbats lunged from the ceiling. Suddenly there was deafening gunfire- Urp could see Gzis talking, but had no idea what he was saying over all the noise. He saw a few of the soldiers fall to the floor, but most of them got back up almost immediately. Wow, their armour really DID hold up.

"DAMNIT. DAMNIT. DAMNIT..." Finally, Gzis just sank to the floor. Urp had never seen him look this defeated.

"Wait... Can I look at that panel?"

Gzis didn't even respond. Didn't insult Urp, didn't laugh at him, didn't shove him in annoyance. Just stayed there, slumped against the ship and waiting to see what happened next.

Urp was just tall enough to reach the lock. He pulled off the cover panel, exposing all the wires underneath. If only he had the faintest clue what any of these meant. Maybe he could rearrange them and make a torch or something, but that wouldn't be very useful.

No, there HAD to be something in here...

He thought back to the bits of door panel 428 had brought in. There'd been locks in them. Once, he'd dissected one to get some parts for fixing Gzis’s gun. What was it he'd done again? The wire that goes into the locking part...

 _Click._ The door moved, and then began to slide open, just as three soldiers turned the corner and opened fire.

Gzis lunged at them. He managed to shove one into the wall, stunning them. Another took a close-range shot, but it missed, giving Gzis a chance to elbow them sharply in the torso. The third landed a hit, but it was barely absorbed by Gzis's armour. Still, it hurt. Gzis kicked them in the shin.

"Keep that door open, Urp! I'm coming on board!"

Urp grabbed the food crate and jumped inside, ignoring the various other crates of metal and tools left on the ground. He rushed to the front of the ship and sat himself in the pilot's seat. There were so many buttons and levers, and he didn't really understand what most of them did, but he figured 428 would've left some notes around or something. Quite a few were labelled- it didn't take him long to find the one which controlled the doors. Now all he had to do was wait for Gzis to get on board...

He could see more soldiers coming down, their skirmish with the shriekbats presumably over. Some were aiming at the windows. Urp scanned over the buttons quickly, pressing a few at random in a panic. Thrusters flared up and died down. A shield came on and switched off. YES. He pressed that one again.

Outside he could hear Gzis roaring. The three soldiers were down, either dead or just stunned, but Gzis had managed to wrangle a gun off one of them. He was still outnumbered by far. More soldiers were coming around, and if they got in, Urp knew he was dead.

"Hold that door open, _Urp!_ "

Gzis fired a few shots and began to make a run for the door. The soldiers were also running. It was almost impossible to tell who would get there first.

Urp closed the door.

" _URP!_ WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OPEN THAT DAMN DOOR!"

Urp couldn't hear any more. The ship had come to life. Engines where whirring, thrusters were lit. The whole thing was turning itself around and he didn't really know why. He wondered if he'd done a bad thing- especially now he'd realised there was no going back. He heard a round of gunshots fire, some aimed at the ship and others aimed at his former camp-mate.

He really, really wanted to feel sorry for Gzis, but all he could think of in that moment was the punishment he wouldn't be receiving. Briefly, despite all the stress, an incredibly heavy weight lifted off his chest.

Before he had a chance to really process the feeling, he was pressed into his seat as the ship zoomed forwards. Darkness began to give way to light, and suddenly everything was far too bright for him. For the first time in months, he was out of the underground. There was no time to appreciate it, not least because the sudden exposure to sunlight was painful to his eyes.

Though his vision was somewhat unclear, he was able to make out the shapes of several ships and turrets- most of them were clearly Federation rather than Pirate designs. He held his breath, waiting for one of them to turn around and face him... But none of them did. Could they even see him?

He glanced around the cockpit. A few things caught his eye- most of them familiar, but he had no idea what they actually did. He'd seen 428 making them back at camp. 428 had mentioned a cloak, right? But that wouldn't last very long, and the ship didn't seem to be trying to leave the planet. He was going to have to pilot it himself, and he had no idea how to do that.

Cautiously, he nudged the nearest joystick. The ship dipped in response. He pulled it back, and the ship began to ascend past the tops of the old command buildings and disused guard turrets. The pressure on his chest intensified as he sped up through the acid clouds, until the crimson skies turned inky black and the roar of the air against the ship's hull groaned to a halt.

When his eyes had adjusted again, he was far above the skies. There'd been a moment where the pressure had been crushing- like when he was leaving the tunnel, but a million times stronger. Now that was over, and as he looked out of the window, he realised what he could see below him. It was the bright red surface of Urtraghus, somewhat less vibrant since the destruction of Phazon, but still a marvel to look at. His home planet. The planet on which his species had been born long ago, and on which he had lived for most of his life.

The ship began to slow down- or perhaps it was moving very fast, but he couldn't tell. He was far out of natural gravity's reach now. He took just a minute to root around the cabin, looking for anything 428 had left behind. With a bit of digging, he managed to uncover a few notes scraped out on a hunk of metal, and a leftover message-tablet with coordinates for Luggar. While he was reading it, the lights began to flicker, and the outside of the ship suddenly began to look more corporeal- he hadn't even noticed how non-solid it looked until now. That meant the shields were down.

Urp pressed all the buttons he could see until the right display came up on screen- _enter coordinates._ He punched them in. New lights began to flicker on the dashboard, most of them warnings for various counts of damage that might compromise his warp. Too late to worry about that now.

He looked out of the window one last time. Streams of gas rose from the surface like auroras, enveloping Urtraghus in an almost beautiful golden shine. It was a marvel he only had mere seconds to process, before he was yet again hurtling through space. He became vaguely aware of the warning telling him that enemy ships were behind him. How was this thing supposed to get to Luggar anyway? This rickety transport ship wasn't likely to have a powerful hyperdr-

Well, he'd been proven wrong before.

\---

Urtraghus was very far away from him now. Below, he could see a new planet, this one coloured a strange coppery tone with wispy grey clouds dotted about its surface. A single moon cast a shadow over a portion of the surface, inside which he could see tiny glowing specks of light clustered together. Something changed on the display of his screen.

PLANET: LUGGAR

For the first time in his entire life, he felt nothing. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just nothing. And it was relieving. Suddenly, there were no commanders or soldiers or punishments or deaths.

He sank into his seat, putting his feet up against the dashboard. It felt... nice.

Despite everything, he was here and alive. Despite his limited food supply and having literally nothing to trade in for further supplies, he was alive. Maybe the ship itself would fetch a good price, and there would be ways to try and find work. Sure, Luggar was a dump, but he wasn't used to any luxuries.

He wasn't going to rush into that though. He was going to ensure these few peaceful minutes lasted as long as he could make them.


End file.
